Prometheus and Medea
by bedb
Summary: Medea needs the blood of the titan to make her magic potion
1. Chapter 1

Medea and Prometheus

Medea knew she was taking a chance, but she needed the blood of a god for the potion to work. Passing through her garden, the scent of jasmines and sandlewood heavy on the night air, she told herself that she would be all right, that there was no risk in what she was doing. And anyone watching the witch pass would have agreed. Medea was beautiful, an enchantress with black hair and dark eyes, slim and sensuous. And no one was her equal in magic, except maybe her aunt, Circe.

Tonight she was on a mission.

In the pocket of her gown were several bulbs of opium poppy, the white sap in them thick and potent. They were her bargaining chip to assure no future retaliation. Although she needed his blood, here was a belief among the priestly caste that the chained god would soon be free. She needed to make sure he did not turn his anger against her once he was free.

Her dragons flew swift and sure into the dark mountains to the crag where Prometheus lay chained. She had seen him once before, the god who loved humanity too much, a creature condemned to suffer the most terrible of fates. How many days and nights has he lain in the cold and biting wind, his body food for demonic birds? How many mornings awoke to his screams?

And like all immortals, he was beautiful, so her thoughts sometimes wandered to other things as well. Did he miss tender touches and kisses? Did his body ever hunger for release? She considered that as a bargaining chip.

The dragons landed on the only flat ground they could find within walking distance of the Titan. She could see him in the faint light of the moon, chained to a flat rock, his bed for the Ages. He was watching her and no doubt already knew why she was there and what she carried in her pocket. He might even be aware of her stray thoughts. He was after all the farsighted.

But not so farsighted if he believed Athena would have stood up to her father for him. She heard the scrape of chains on rock as he tried to move to get a better look at her.

Prometheus, the eternal idealistic youth, forever young, forever damned. By the light of day his long hair was the color of sun bleached autumn fields, and his eyes were the sky before a winter storm. At night, he was just a shape on a rock.

In that faint light she could see just enough of him to tell that even after countless days of sun and wind and cold, he was still flawless. Gods were that way.

"Do you know why I am here?" she asked and moved closer. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands up his thigh. Did he sense that? Would he mind if she ran her nails over his trembling body?

"You want my blood," he answered softly, and there was knowledge in his tone. He knew her thoughts. And if he knew her thoughts and wasn t protesting, then ..she stepped up to the boulder that he was forced to lie upon and let her nails brush the inside of his thigh.

"I seek a trade, Titan," she said and let her nails continue up his body, letting them ever so lightly brush his groin.

"My blood is not cheap," he answered breathlessly as she closed her hand over his stirring cock.

"No, it s not," she answered and released him. She heard his faint cry "The prophets say that your time of freedom is near. I do not want you retaliating against me."

"If you torture me, I will retaliate," he responded menacingly, but her hand returning to his body stilled his protests. She could feel the deep breath he took and held. When was the last time a woman had touched him?

"I want to be generous to you," she said and allowed her hand to find more interesting parts to touch. "I bring opium so the bird won t be so terrible when it attacks. And I can be nice in other ways."

He was too proud to beg with words, but his body fairly quivered at her touch. He wanted more than a taste; he wanted to over whelmed by it. She grasped his cock in her hand and stroked it, using the foreskin to tease the head. Her hand was too dry but there was a remedy. She bent over and took him into her mouth, gently sucking on the swollen head until he moaned loudly and tried to move his hips in time with her.

She stopped before he climaxed and waited for some of the pressure to subside. He gasped and made a whimpering sound. This was torture for him, but it was also led to greater pleasure. She stroked him again and looked at the face she could barely see. Here was a god with his perfect body in her hands, literally. It wouldn t take much for her to enjoy him.

Releasing him, she moved to his head and stared down into the face of hunger and desire. He opened his mouth and tasted his first kiss in eons. But even still his mouth did not taste stale or bitter. He was sweet, and laying her hand on his breast, she could feel the pounding of his heart.

She moved down his beautiful body, back to the straining erection that demanded her attention. This time when she took him into her mouth, she used the edge of her teeth, the swirl of her tongue and the force of her mouth to draw him closer and closer to the edge. She could hear him pleading now for her to stay with him, to give him release.

His body tensed and there was no turning back. He came violently, thrusting his hips upwards. His cry was not that of a wounded animal or a terrified god but a man spending his passion in a woman s mouth.

Medea stayed with him until there was nothing left to take. Raising her head, she saw him laying there with his head back, his eyes shut. How long had they been doing this? Why? The sun was starting to bleed red in the East. The bird would be stirring.

"The opium, please," he asked, the pain in his voice almost unimaginable. What should have been a pleasant rest was now preparing for the attack.

"Are you sure now?" she asked and dug the bulbs out of her pocket.

"Yes, now!"

She cut them open with a small knife, and when the white sap ran, she pressed it to his lips. He sucked on the white juice as if his very life depended on it. He even sank teeth into it to get every drop of it.

"When it comes, it won t bother you," he gasped through the horrible misery growing in his mind. "Soon," he whimpered to himself. "Soon."

Medea stood back and watched the sun rise. A great bird, larger than anything she had ever seen approached them from the north. This was it! With a scream it extended its talons and attacked the Titan s vulnerable body. But deep in the opiate, he felt no pain, his eyes more closed than open.

Hot red blood spilled over the sides of the rocks, staining stone and grass. Remembering her errand Medea pulled out a suave container and scooped up the thick clotting blood. There was so much! So much blood. She paused and looked at Prometheus, and the sight stunned her. He was so beautiful in that early golden light, a look of peace on his face as the black eagle ripped strip after strip of purple liver from his body.

The bird looked at her and screamed a warning. This was his prey and he would not share. Medea would not challenge him for the Titan s body, and she had what she needed to make the magical potion. Running back to her dragons, she climbed into the chariot and told them to go home now. With deafening defiant screams, the obeyed her. 


	2. Chapter 2

Prometheus knew the man was coming, the one destined for immortality, but Heracles would not arrive until the vulture returned one more time. The distant rumble of thunder rolled through the dark mountains towards him, and for a brief moment he feared Heracles would not be able to hear his screams because even with the storm hiding sunrise, the vulture would come. It never missed its divinely ordained meal.

Heracles pulled the lion skin closer to him as the rain beat down mercilessly upon him. It was dark and a sane man would be home in bed before a warm fire with a full bosomed woman in his Heracles was on a quest to find the one being who could tell him where to find his missing young friend Hylas.  
The sky overhead was dark with clouds but the fine gray light that filtered through them told him it was early morning. Continuing across one high peak, he stopped and listened to the moaned like a dying man through the valleys below him, but he was lisening for something else. Straining hard he heard the screams of a man in terror and pain. Hurrying as fast as he could run towards the cries, he readied an arrow in his bow.

Climbing to the top of a flat plateau, he stopped and stared momentarily at a great bird ripping into the body of a man. He had found Prometheus. Drawing the arrow back, he released it and watched as it flew true towards its target. Now the vulture screamed as the arrow pierced its back. Throwing itself into the sky, it tried to fly away but a second arrow brought it to the earth.

Leaving the bow behind and drawing his sword, Heracles approached the still struggling vulture with a dark look in his eyes. The vulture hissed at him, a futile gesture, just before Heracles severed its head from its body with a single powerful swipe of his sword.

Prometheus, eyes closed with pain and relief, did not move at was over, and in a few minutes he would be free.

Heracles grabbed the chain that held Prometheus' right arm and pulled it as hard as he could, the rock groaning in protest as he gave a great heave and yanked the arm free. Prometheus clinched his eyes shut and wept thin hot tears of was over.

Heracles broke all the chains that held the Titan to the rock and stepped back to see what the Titan would was supposed to be a friend of mankind, but after countless ages chained to a rock with a vulture eating on him, he might have some pent up anger to let out.

But Prometheus possessed no anger for Heracles or any other mortal. It was the Olympians who had hurt him, even after he sent a message to Zeus warning him about Thetis. "Thank-you," he rasped dryly. "Have you anything to drink?"

Heracles always carried a skin of water with him and untied it from his belt. Helping Prometheus sit up, he helped him drink from the skin, and it was a long deep drink.

"I'm sorry it's not wine," Heracles apologized, "but that doesn't travel well."

Prometheus lowered the skin and smiled. "It is sweeter than wine," he assured the a heavy sigh, he met Heracles clear green eyes and said, "Your friend Hylas never left the island. He was taken by the nymphs who live there and lives a life of great pleasure."

Heracles frowned and looked away. "Will he be all right?"

"He will," Prometheus assured him. "Do not go back for him, Heracles. If you did find him, in time he would be killed by someone angry at you. And you yourself are not destined for many more years."

Heracles was not afraid of dying. "Then I best make good use of what I have," he decided aloud.

"Yes," Prometheus agreed and stood on weak legs. Heracles offered him a strong arm and steadied him. "Thank-you."

The sound of rushing wind filled the air, and invisible voices followed. "What creature is this?" Heracles growled suspiciously.

"It is Eos and her family," Prometheus answered with a smile. The voices gelled into shapes and became the goddess of the dawn in her fine golden chariot pulled by golden horses. Around her swarmed the spirits of time; all thankful to see Prometheus freed. Soon the air was swarming with nature spirits, relieved that the Titan was finally free.

Heracles made his farewells and wandered off in search of new if he was quick, he could rejoin Jason in search of the Golden Fleece.

Heracles' thought touched Prometheus, and the Titan paused in the middle of the well wishes. Medea was going to wind up Jason's lover but it would not be a happy affair. He needed to warn her, but not before following Eos home to her brother's palace for a banquet.

Medea sat in her garden and listened to soft strings of the lyre float on the night air. Everything was still, and the perfume of the flowers filled the air with their sweet aroma.  
The eunuch sitting among the saffron robed women stopped and looked up. Someone was behind Medea who had not been there before. The sorceress was certain she knew who her visitor was and dismissed her servants with a nod and wave of the hand.

Standing up she turned to face the Titan, now clean and dressed in a white chiton. He was even more beautiful to look at now than he had been chained to the rock. "It is good to see you again," she said curiously and plucked a sweet gardenia from the hedge."Come for more medicine?"

Prometheus smiled at the beautiful coy woman. He had come to warn her about Jason, but the thought occurred to him that her body would be soft and sweet beneath had had many lovers in the house of his cousin Helios, but Medea was the one he really wanted.

"Some Greeks are coming," he warned her. "Their leader is Jason. If you fall in love with him, there will be nothing but tragedy in your life."

Medea arched a fine dark brow and sniffed the sweet gardenia again. "Why is this Jason coming here?"

"For the golden fleece."

"So many fools have tried and perished."

Prometheus did not want to arouse her curiousity any more than he already discuss a rival for her affections? "I have thought about you all the time these past few months."

She looked at him a smile on her face. "Really?"

"Yes. I imagined what it would be like making perfect love to you."

"The love of a god is never good for a mortal," she reminded him although her dark eyes shined with anticipation. Even if for one night, Medea would claim a god for a lover.

Prometheus carefully approached her, his eyes on the soft curve of her neck and ample swell of her breasts beneath the saffron desperately wanted to make love to her. Medea laughed triumphantly when he took her into his arms and kissed the warm perfumed hollow of her throat and held her close to his body. When their lips met his hunger almost overwhelmed him.

In the garden, using her cloak for a bed, they made love with a passion unmatched. Her nails left thei marks on his body, but he they only fueled his lust. She would go to Jason, but she would have another memory to keep in her memories when Jason turned on her.

"Medea," he whispered against her lips as the first lights of dawn paled the eastern sky, "whenever you need me, call and I will help you."

"Will I need your help?" she asked softly, her lush body sated from a night of magical sex.

"Yes," he answered and vanished.

Medea raised her head in surprise when someone called out, "Medea, we have guests!" 


End file.
